


Mercy Over Me

by dizzzylu



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 07:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzzylu/pseuds/dizzzylu
Summary: Auston's least favorite thing in the world is getting dragged from sleep, but it's notasbad when there's a warm, solid weight pressed against his back.





	Mercy Over Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fiddleyoumust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/gifts).



> New ship alert!!! At least for me. I tried to avoid these two for a long, long time, but I have too many Leafs fan friends. And also, HAVE YOU SEEN FREDDIE?????? This is basically an ode to Freddie's big body. Or tried to be? Idk.
> 
> I would list all the people to blame for this fic, but I'd wind up missing _somebody_ , so I'll just have to hope they all know who they are and that they're in VERY BIG TROUBLE. 
> 
> Oh, I should probably mention Julia, though. She's the one who indulged me on New Year's Day morning, and I threw in a few of her kinks (I think?) because why not.
> 
> (Also, they might be my kinks *cough*)
> 
> Not beta'd, mistakes are my own, etc etc.

Auston's least favorite thing in the world is getting dragged from sleep, but it's not _as_ bad when there's a warm, solid weight pressed against his back and sunlight spilling through the curtains turing everything a pure, golden yellow. It's one of those rare winter days when the sun feels bright enough to burn through the cold, but Auston knows better. Nothing could lure him out of his pile of blankets right now. And the steady drag of knuckles back and forth along his happy trail only seals the deal.

There's nothing like sleepy, lazy morning sex to start off a new year right.

The hand petting his belly feels nice, but it would be even better wrapped around his dick, turning his morning wood into something more respectable. One long head-to-toe stretch usually redirects things in a natural direction, but this morning, Freddie has Auston's legs pinned, and there's no way for Auston to squirm up the bed. It makes Auston wonder if Freddie is even awake yet. If the petting is just some by-product of a dream.

A friendly nip to Auston's shoulder proves otherwise. 

"Mornin', Fred," Auston rumbles, his throat still feeling wrecked from the night before.

Freddie muffles his greeting against Auston's nape, then scrapes the skin with his teeth, drawing out a shiver. A second later, Freddie shifts and Auston, lazy and malleable, follows the movement, rolling onto his back with an annoyed grunt. Not even Freddie's sleepy face smiling down at Auston is enough to forgive the loss of warmth, the abrupt lack of skin on skin. Auston opens his mouth to complain, but Freddie's hand is there, thumbing at the corner.

"Not now," Freddie huffs, then leans in for a kiss. Objectively, morning kisses are the worst, unless the people have slipped out of bed to brush their teeth first, but they can also be the best. With a whole day off and nowhere to be, Freddie's kiss is slow and lazy, thorough in the way they almost never have time for. He kisses Auston until Auston can't breathe, and doesn't even really want to, if it means he doesn't have Freddie's thick chest pressed against his. Freddie's big, warm hand cradling Auston's cheek. Their breath is sour and stale and perfect.

At least until Freddie pulls away, smirking, one thick curl of hair fallen across his forehead.

Auston blinks up at Freddie, takes two bracing breaths, and hooks his arm around Freddie's neck. "Get the fuck back here, asshole."

Freddie doesn't go easy, even bites at Auston's mouth, but then he's there, his tongue slick and firm, lazily pushing against Auston's. His big hand slides from Auston's face to his hair and tugs, pulling Auston's head back until Freddie's mouth is at the hinge of Auston's jaw. Auston groans as Freddie bites him there, dull and insistent. 

It's an unspoken agreement between them to not leave any marks that can't be explained away as a hockey bruise, but there is a not small part of Auston that craves a healthy bruise or two. Something hot and aching, something that feels _good_ when he presses his fingers against it. 

Freddie moves on to the tendon in Auston's neck and Auston hisses, "Do it," without thinking, arm tightening around Freddie's neck. There's a pause, Freddie's lips skimming Auston's skin, and then his fingers clench in Auston's hair, pulling harder, enough for Auston to have to arch into it, baring his neck for whatever Freddie wants to do to it. 

He brushes his lips against the curve, pressing feather light kisses to Auston's Adam's apple and shoulder, everywhere in between. It sounds like he might be sniffing too, searching for just the right spot. It's all Auston can do to remember to breathe, his body held taut, waiting. Waiting.

Freddie bites first, where Auston's neck slopes into his shoulder, like he's testing his placement. And then the suction starts, warm and persistent. Auston lets out a breath and his whole body goes lax, inviting Freddie to take up the space it leaves behind. He does, shifting more of his weight onto Auston, as he sucks soft kisses along Auston's shoulder, teeth dragging over the tattoo on his collar bone. In between, he keeps returning to the bruise he's making, like he won't be happy unless he can make it permanent. Every time he goes back, it sends a little arc of pleasure down to Auston's dick, turning the sluggish need to get off into something more urgent, more demanding.

With the arm still wrapped around Freddie's neck, Auston tries to drag him up, into a kiss. He thinks it would move Freddie's body those last few inches, too. Forcing him in between Auston's thighs, giving Auston something to grind against, but Freddie only growls, bites down on his bruise and pulls Auston's hair. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," Auston gasps, trying not to giggle. It's going to be one of _those_ mornings.

At least Auston gets half of what he wants; Freddie closes the last bit of distance between their bodies, settling warm and solid over Auston. Auston doesn't wait long to try getting some friction against his cock, but Freddie's too heavy, too big and thick for Auston to roll his body the way he wants. It should be frustrating — Auston just wants to _come_ — but something about it is reassuring, too. Auston blinks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. 

The second he does, Freddie hums, a light buzz flitting over Auston's skin, and says, "That's better."

Auston hates how smug Freddie sounds. Hates even more how it makes him shiver all over. "I have no idea why I like you," he says, in an attempt to keep Freddie's ego in check.

Freddie grinds their hips together and drags his teeth along his bruise in progress. "Yes you do."

Yeah. Okay. That's fair.

With nothing to do and nowhere to go, Auston sinks both hands into Freddie's hair. He worked out all the gel last night, so it's a fluffy mess now, but it feels good in his hands, and Auston likes scraping his nails along Freddie's scalp to make him shiver. He likes pulling on it, too. A not-so-subtle attempt to urge Freddie into more kisses.

Freddie lets him do that a few times before he sits up, settling all his weight on Auston's pelvis, and wraps his hands around Auston's wrists. His eyebrows are arched, looking down at Auston. Auston jerks his chin up, defiant, and Freddie tips forward until Auston's wrists are pinned to the bed on either side of his head. His grip is firm, not tight; Auston could probably twist out of it if he wanted to, but it feels good. _Really_ good. Even if it is a little hard to breathe, looking up into Freddie's soft, knowing eyes.

He kisses Auston then, slow and sweet morphing into wet and filthy. They kiss until Auston can't breathe, just a little beyond, and Freddie situates himself back between Auston's legs, dragging his dick along Auston's. Auston chokes on a gasp and Freddie grins.

"Stay here?" Freddie asks, thumb digging into the pulse in Auston's wrist. Auston nods, trying to swallow, and watches Freddie reach for the lube on the nightstand. He presses it into Auston's free hand and holds out his palm, face expectant. It's awkward trying to open it with one hand and not make a mess, but Auston only gets a few globs on his shoulder. The rest makes it into Freddie's waiting palm. He's kind enough to let Auston use Freddie's fingertips to help close the cap, and then Freddie waits, all his weight balanced on his hand holding down Auston's, until Auston gets it together enough to get rid of the bottle and remember to put his arm back where it was. 

"Good job," Freddie murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of Auston's mouth. Auston struggles not to preen.

With his weight braced on his forearm (and a little bit on Auston's chest), Freddie reaches between them to slick up their dicks. He makes a show of it, squeezing Auston tight, using his thumb to circle the head a few times. Even goes so far as to stroke cool fingers along Auston's perineum. He lingers long enough to make everything wet and messy and warm, then returns to his original position: pinning Auston's wrists and ducking in for a thorough kiss. As soon as Auston is breathless, Freddie rolls his body, drawing a gasp from Auston.

Objectively, this isn't Auston's favorite way to get off; neither of them are teenagers anymore, and frottage is always going to feel a little childish to Auston. Something for inexperienced kids to experiment with, to see how the various types of friction feel. But it's different with Freddie pinning him down, moving his big body in ways no fumbling kid could ever _hope_ to move, slotting his dick in just the right way, so it drags against Auston's dick more often than it doesn't. 

Freddie also isn't in a rush. Is almost _never_ in a rush where sex is concerned. It's the greatest and most terrible thing about him: his patience. Auston would think it's a goalie thing probably, if he had two free brain cells to rub together.

Instead, he's too distracted by skin on skin, slick with lube and a fine sheen of sweat. Freddie's thumbs sweeping along the insides of Auston's wrists. The crinkles at the corners of Freddie's eyes, soft and impossible to look away from. The sharp, insistent throb in Auston's dick, begging _more more more_.

What he gets is Freddie's hands sliding up, their fingers slotting together. A tight squeeze with every filthy roll of Freddie's body. His breath gusts hot across Auston's mouth and the first time their noses bump together in a clumsy attempt for a kiss, Auston giggles — fucking _giggles_ — high and breathless. Freddie's slow rhythm is a little torturous, but amazing, too. Auston is hyper aware of everywhere they touch, even wraps his legs around Freddie's waist to get more, to get closer. 

"Watch it," Freddie huffs right into Auston's ear. 

"Make me," Auston gasps back.

Freddie growls and bites Auston's earlobe, the cut of his jaw. Auston shivers and groans, blinking up at the ceiling with a dumb smile on his face.

It takes forever and also no time at all for Freddie to drag the orgasm out of Auston; for a long time, it feels like Auston's just going to ride along the edge, the skin and friction not quite enough to push him over. But Freddie is nothing if not determined. Persistent, even. He drags his teeth along Auston's collar bone, licks a warm line along Auston's neck. Finds the mark he made before and sucks again. 

It's the hint of teeth at the edges that does him in. Auston gasps into Freddie's cheek and squeezes his hands, struggling to surge up and up. Freddie keeps him pinned down, using his big body to stroke Auston's dick. It's filthy and amazing all at once, the heat of Freddie's skin, the weight of him keeping Auston where Freddie wants him, the sticky, sweaty mess smeared all over their groins. It feels so good, Auston needs a few moments to remember how to catch his breath. 

He doesn't get the chance until after Freddie comes, hissing curses into Auston's ear and adding to the mess until Auston is oversensitive and twitchy. Auston's weak protests only drag it out longer, Freddie smirking down at Auston with his ridiculous eye crinkles and his stupid fluffy hair. There's a lock of it, one stubborn curl that Auston wants to push away from Freddie's forehead, but Freddie still has control of Auston's hands, his grip loose now that he's sated and relaxed. Auston strokes Freddie's thumb instead and fights back a dopey smile.

"You good?" Freddie asks, studying Auston's face. He hasn't moved, is still letting Auston take his body weight, and maybe it should be awkward, or too much, but it also feels right. Pinned in place with nowhere to go, his body sinking deeper into the mattress because why shouldn't it. 

Auston squirms, settling in for the long haul, and beams up at Freddie. "Never better."

Freddie hums, a satisfied sort of sound, and dips in for a kiss before Auston can put Freddie's ego back in check. It's demanding in a lazy way, Freddie finally letting go of Auston's hands to spear them through Auston's hair. Auston misses them once they're gone, but is also grateful that he can finally get his own hands in Freddie's soft hair and make it even more of a mess. The kiss drags on and on, longer than it should, until Auston is forced to give in to the yawn he's been trying to fight back. 

"We should get cleaned up," Freddie murmurs against Auston's jaw. "Before Sleeping Beauty falls asleep."

Using what little post-orgasm stamina he's built up, Auston grunts and rolls them onto their sides. "Sounds like a plan."

Freddie watches Auston, fingers stroking through Auston's hair. "So get up then," he says, giving Auston's hair a quick, sharp pull.

"Mmmm, no," Auston says, eyelids drooping. "Just go get a washcloth. We can shower later."

Freddie bites Auston's chin. "I did all the work!"

"Yeah," Auston mumbles, nuzzling into his pillow. "But you like it that way."

"Ugh." Freddie rolls his eyes and tugs on Auston's hair, but he gets up, letting his fingertips drag across Auston's hip and the length of his leg. Smiling, smug, Auston watches Freddie's freckled ass all the way to the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> I am [dizzzylu](https://twitter.com/dizzzylu) on Twitter :)


End file.
